


Hot, Fresh, and Full-Bodied. Also, There's Coffee.

by bryndenn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dom Sam Winchester, First Meetings, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Praise Kink, Rimming, Sexting, Spanking, Sub Dean Winchester, Swesson, Uncircumcised Penis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-07 07:24:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19080256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bryndenn/pseuds/bryndenn
Summary: Dean Smith’s life was regimented and orderly, thank you very much. He didn’t like surprises, so he made sure that he wasn’t often surprised. Then his milk frother broke.Who knew that the shy-seeming barista at the local coffee shop was actually a deliciously dominant surprise in bed? Who knew that uptight Dean Smith needed nothing more than a little domination?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with a more entertaining title! :)

Dean Smith’s life was regimented and orderly, thank you very much. He didn’t like surprises, so he made sure that he wasn’t often surprised.

Then his milk frother broke.

He could have run to Bed, Bath, and Beyond for a replacement, but the rain was coming down hard and he’d just had his fall overcoat cleaned. And the one he wanted wasn’t available for same-day delivery through Amazon. Dean considered asking his assistant to do it; it wasn’t technically in her job description, but Sandover assistants expected a little bit of outside work. But Helene had been fluttering her eyelashes at Dean a little too often lately, and he didn’t want her so much as in the lobby of his apartment building. He’d been to those sexual harassment seminars.

Not that Helene was his type, but he suspected that didn’t matter much to her.

It was easiest, he decided, to just stop the following morning at the coffee shop right across from his office. He’d never been there, but he’d had coffee from there a few times. It wasn’t as good as his own, but it was a long shot better than coffee from a chain.

With his morning planned, Dean put on his cashmere pajamas, brushed, flossed, Waterpiked and tongue-scraped, and then turned in for the night, secure in the knowledge that his life would continue to run smoothly.

The next morning, Dean followed his plan to the letter, making sure to leave twenty minutes earlier than normal to leave plenty of time for a coffee run. He parked his car, secured it, pulled his suit coat on, smoothed his tie, and walked to the coffee shop.

There was barely a line, Dean noticed, as he pulled his phone out to check on the closing numbers for the Hang Seng. He timed it perfectly, ensuring that he knew what his stocks were doing right as the woman in front of him stepped aside for him to order.

“Welcome to Coffee Coffee Coffee,” a low voice said. “What can I get you?”

Dean glanced up to see the owner of the voice and found himself staring at a very broad chest with a name tag that read “Sam”. He shifted his eyes up, surprised to find someone who made him feel short. The owner of the voice looked at him expectantly, and Dean was momentarily flummoxed by trying to determine what color the barista’s eyes were. A greenish-hazel, perhaps?

“Sir?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Uh,” Dean stumbled, feeling entirely out of his element. “Can I have a double-shot latte with skim?”

“Anything else?” Sam asked.

Dean shook his head no, still trying to parse the enigma of Sam’s eyes. He didn’t even remember paying, although he must have, because Sam was handing him back his platinum card.

“Switch me,” a girl with pink, blue, and black hair said, bumping Sam out of her way with her hip. “You’re better at making them.”

Sam shrugged and went to the espresso machine. Dean watched, captivated, as Sam assembled his drink. Each movement was both graceful and economical; Sam was precise, as if he’d repeated the motions a million times and they were burned into his muscle memory. Before Dean knew it, Sam was in front of him, holding out a cup.

“You’re not sensitive to caffeine, are you?” Sam asked.

Dean raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

“I added a little extra espresso,” Sam said. “Don’t tell my manager.”

“I won’t,” Dean said lamely, trying and failing to come up with a witty retort.

“Have a good day,” Sam said, and this time he graced Dean with a real smile. It took a minute for Dean to move as he was so entranced by Sam’s dimples.

“Yeah, thanks. You too,” Dean mumbled, trying to pull himself together as he moved towards the door.

There was nothing regimented and orderly about his trip to the coffee shop, but he couldn’t force himself to mind.

***

Somehow, Dean just never found the time to replace his milk frother. His trips to the unfortunately-named but wonderfully-staffed Coffee Coffee Coffee became a part of his daily routine. Luckily for him, Sam worked the weekday morning shift, so Dean didn’t have to suffer without him on certain days of the week. Not that he thought that much about Sam. That would be entirely illogical, and that’s one thing Dean wasn’t.

Sam’s smile seemed to warm a bit more every time he saw Dean. As often as not, Dean would find little extras included in his order, or his coffee just a bit stronger than normal. He knew better than to read too much into those things, but he couldn’t stop his heart from assigning all sorts of importance to them.

Things might have gone on indefinitely if Sam hadn’t been braver then Dean. One day, as he handed Dean his latte, Sam took a deep, centering breath, and then briskly asked, “Do they let you out for lunch?”

Dean was startled and laughed before he could school his features into a more composed state. “Yeah, as long as I get all my work done,” he said, grinning. “Otherwise it’s detention for me.”

“And have you been a good boy lately?” Sam asked, quirking an eyebrow.

And oh, didn’t that question cause an interesting reaction in Dean.

“As far as I know,” he responded, playing it way cooler than he felt.

“Would you maybe want to grab a bite to eat sometime?” Sam asked, suddenly looking bashful and running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah! I mean, sure,” Dean said. “I’d have to check my schedule.”

“I know it’s last minute, but how about today?” Sam glanced at Dean, looking hopeful.

Goddamn it.

“I have a conference call today, so I’m taking a short lunch,” he said apologetically. “If it was any other day…” Then he had an idea. “Unless you want to meet me in my office. I’ll have enough time to eat, just not enough to go somewhere.”

“Yeah,” Sam said, flashing his dimples. “I’m done at noon. I could grab sandwiches from that deli down the street.”

And just like that, Dean had a lunch date with the hot guy from the coffee shop. He had never brought his personal life into the office before, and, as a new hire, he should have been more cautious than he was being. But he didn’t want to risk the chance that Sam would take any deferral as a rejection, and he thought he was in good enough with Mr. Adler to risk it. He found himself worrying about it a lot less than he normally would as he spent the morning anticipating lunch.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean wasn’t startled when the call from the receptionist came in, mostly because he’d been waiting anxiously for at least ten minutes, wondering if Sam was going to actually show up or not. He rushed out the door to his office to reception, straightening his tie on the way.

Sam was leaning casually against the reception desk. “Hey,” he said with a grin when he saw Dean.

“Hey yourself,” Dean said, and didn’t miss the small smile on the receptionist’s face.

“Thanks, Marie,” Dean said.

“Any time, Mr. Smith,” she said, her smile widening as she looked between the two of them.

Dean led Sam back into his office. They didn’t speak on the way there, but Sam stayed close enough to Dean that their elbows bumped a couple times. Dean found that he didn’t mind at all.

He ushered Sam into his office and closed the doors. He’d had the presence of mind to close the blinds over the glass walls of the office earlier that day, so he didn’t have to conspicuously do so when Sam was there.

“Water?” Dean asked, opening the minifridge that blended in perfectly with the cabinets.

“Sure,” Sam said, and then raised his eyes when Dean handed him a bottle of San Pellegrino. “Fancy.”

“Did you want something else?” Dean asked.

“No, man,” Sam said with a small laugh. “I’m sure I can handle it. I got pastrami on rye and turkey and swiss on wheat. I wasn’t sure what you liked.”

“Do you have a preference?” Dean asked.

“Yeah: food,” Sam said with a grin. “Aside from that, I’m not picky.”

Dean reached for the turkey; he was perpetually trying to drop five pounds, so it seemed wise to forgo the pastrami. Sam didn’t seem to have the same concerns. He flopped into the chair across from Dean’s desk and took a big bite of his sandwich.

Dean wasn’t sure whether to take the seat next to Sam or his normal seat, across the desk. Either one seemed fraught with peril. Luckily, Sam saved him by moving his bottle of water over.

“Sorry, I’m taking up all the space,” he said, making room for Dean to sit next to him. It seemed like as good a sign as any, so Dean took the chair.

After that, the tension quickly dissipated. Within a few minutes, Dean and Sam were talking and laughing like they’d known each other their entire lives. Dean couldn’t shake the feeling of completion that he felt with Sam.

There was a lull in their conversation, and Sam glanced down at Dean’s mouth.

“Shit,” Dean said. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Just a little mustard,” Sam said. “Here.” He leaned forward and wiped the corner of Dean’s mouth with his thumb. Before he even consciously thought of what he was doing, Dean felt his tongue lick the mustard from Sam’s thumb.

Sam sat stock-still, staring at Dean, who quickly pulled his tongue back into his mouth.

_Stupid idiot_ , he chastised.

But he didn’t have long to be upset with himself. Sam grabbed Dean by the tie and pulled him into a kiss.

Sam didn’t appear to have any intention of taking things slow; his tongue probed at the seam of Dean’s lips, and Dean parted them, willing the welcome invasion. Sam put one of his hands on the back of Dean’s head, the other one still tugging on his tie, pulling them closer and closer together.

Dean put a hand on Sam’s chest as the kiss deepened, feeling the firm muscles underneath, and wondered what Sam would look like with his shirt off. His hands were moving before the thought was even finished, pulling Sam’s polo shirt up insistently. He felt Sam smile against his mouth as he broke the kiss for a moment, pulling his shirt up and over his head. Dean’s hands immediately began to roam, feeling Sam’s defined pecs and tracing down his abs.

Sam groaned and dove in for another kiss, his tongue even more insistent in its exploration of Dean’s mouth. Dean could feel himself getting hard, the restrictive cut of his suit pants suddenly uncomfortable.

“Mr. Smith, your conference call begins in five minutes,” Helene’s voice buzzed through the intercom.

“Fuck,” Dean said against Sam’s lips.

“Ok, but you might miss your call,” Sam said, nipping Dean’s lower lip.

“We have to stop,” Dean said, reluctantly breaking their kiss. “Trust me when I say I’d rather do this than take a conference call, but my assistant will break in here if I’m not out the door in three minutes.”

Sam pretended to think it over. “She’s cute, but not what I go for,” he said, winking.

“We could pick this up later?” Dean asked hesitantly. He didn’t want to push too far, too fast, but he also didn’t want to let the opportunity pass. “Dinner?”

Sam grinned wide and Dean was momentarily distracted by how adorable those dimples were. “Yeah, I’d like that,” he said.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go,” Dean said. “I have pretty good connections. Or we can just order Thai takeout. There’s a great place just around the corner from my place. We can watch a movie or something.”

Or something.

“That sounds good,” Sam said, his smile even wider.

“Ok,” Dean said, leaning in for one last kiss. “It’s a date.”

***

Dean paced back and forth in his kitchen as he waited for the buzzer. Sam had offered to stop and get the food, but Dean had expected him at least ten minutes prior. He knew it was ridiculous to get so worked up over ten minutes, but he just couldn’t help himself.

Finally, as Dean was pulling out his phone to send a casual-but-not text to Sam, the buzzer rang. Dean smoothed his hair in the couple minutes it took Sam to arrive at his door.

“Hey,” Sam said as Dean opened the door. He leaned in and brushed a soft kiss against Dean’s lips.

It took every ounce of willpower that Dean had not to grab Sam by the lapels and deepen the kiss. Instead, he took the takeout bag from Sam and gestured for him to come in. Dean turned towards the counter to set the bag down, and suddenly felt Sam pressing against his back, his hardening cock pressing deliciously against Dean’s ass.

“Thai food reheats ok, right?” Sam said huskily into Dean’s ear.

“Yeah,” Dean replied, turning his head so Sam could capture his lips. Sam’s hand was on his jaw, encouraging Dean’s head to the side as he slid his tongue into Dean’s mouth. Dean turned to give Sam better access, and his stiffening cock rubbed against Sam’s, causing both of them to moan at the same time.

“Is this too fast?” Sam murmured into Dean’s mouth.

“It’s perfect,” Dean said, his hands carding through Sam’s hair.

“Good,” Sam growled, and the next thing Dean knew, he was being lifted onto the counter. It shouldn’t be so hot that Sam could manhandle him so easily, but damned if he wasn’t turned on by it.

Sam stepped between Dean’s legs, his mouth leaving Dean’s mouth to explore elsewhere. He nipped at Dean’s earlobe and sucked at the pulse point on Dean’s throat, while one hand spread wide across Dean’s ass, pulling him closer. His other hand played with the waistband of Dean’s pants, little teasing touches that were driving Dean crazy.

“Jesus,” Dean panted into Sam’s mouth.

“It’s Sam,” came the teasing reply. “But you can call me Jesus if that’s what does it for you.”

“You do it for me,” Dean said, dropping his head back to give Sam more neck to explore.

Sam growled and his hand tightened in Dean’s hair, pulling it backwards just enough for Dean to feel the tug.

“Bedroom?” Dean asked.

“But Dean, what about dinner?” Sam asked, taking a step back.

“Fuck dinner.”

Sam tsked. “You hardly ate any of your sandwich at lunch,” he said. “I won’t have you skipping dinner too.”

Dean knew that he ought to feel offended that Sam was talking to him like he was a child, but he didn’t. It felt nice to have someone worry about him, to let someone else be in control. “Ok,” he said simply.

“So good,” Sam said, stroking Dean’s hair affectionately. Dean leaned into Sam’s touch and smiled.

Sam stayed through dinner and two ridiculous action movies that neither of them paid much attention to. Sam alternated between eating what was on his plate and feeding Dean bites of his own food, which was substantially more erotic than Dean ever would have imagined. Other than that, Sam kept his hands to himself for the remainder of the night. Dean would have been disappointed had the goodnight kiss not been so sizzling hot. Finally, Sam left with a promise that they’d see each other the following day.

Dean fell into bed two hours later than he normally did, and he didn’t mind the disruption in his schedule one bit.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Dean wasn’t quite sure how his interaction with Sam would be the following morning when he walked into Coffee Coffee Coffee. It turned out that Sam’s smile was turned up a notch, but aside from that, it was business as usual. Sam did run a finger over Dean’s wrist as he handed him his latte, but that was it.

Dean felt a little disappointed as he crossed the street to his office. He hadn’t expected Sam to haul him over the counter for a kiss or anything, but some acknowledgement of what had happened the night before would have been nice.

It put Dean in a bit of a mood for the morning. He felt on-edge, and then he felt upset with himself for taking what was essentially a one-day flirtation so seriously. Sam didn’t owe him anything.

Dean was in the middle of a meeting when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out, assuming it was just an email notification, but instead he saw it was a text.

  _Sam: Touch yourself for me._

 Dean felt himself stiffening in his pants in the middle of his meeting, just from the thought that Sam was sending him suggestive texts during the day. He made every attempt to pay attention to what his colleague was saying, and quickly typed back.

  _Dean: Can’t. In a meeting_.

 The response came almost immediately, and Dean thrilled at the idea that Sam was waiting for his response.

  _Sam: Go to the bathroom. Now._

 Dean stifled a groan, his hard-on problem getting worse by the second. With a murmur, he was out of his seat and quickly making his way to the executive washroom. He’d never been so grateful for the privacy of that bathroom. He locked the door and palmed himself through his pants, letting out the groan that he’d been holding back.

  _Sam: Are you in the bathroom?_

  _Dean: Yes_

  _Sam: Good. Unzip your fly._

 Dean complied, letting his pants pool around his ankles.

  _Dean: Ok_

  _Sam: Rub yourself through your underwear. I want you to stroke yourself and imagine that it’s my hand. No reaching inside; I want fabric between your cock and your hand._

 Dean did so, tipping his head back against the wall as he stroked his cock. He imagined Sam’s enormous hand on him and felt himself stiffen at the thought. After a couple minutes, the next message came.

 S _am: Are you thinking about me, Dean?_

  _Dean: Yes_

  _Sam: Good boy. How hard are you?_

  _Dean: So hard_

  _Sam: Take out your cock and show me._

 Dean pushed his boxers down, stroking himself a few more times. He took a few shots before he got one that he thought showed him off to best effect; this was Sam’s first time seeing his cock, and he wanted to make a good impression.

  _Sam: I’m waiting, Dean._

 Dean let out a needy little whine, thankful that no one was there to hear it, and sent the best picture he had. The response came within seconds.

  _Sam: Fuck, your cock is gorgeous. I can’t wait to get my mouth around it._

 Dean moaned and stroked himself as he imagined what Sam would look like on his knees with Dean’s dick in his mouth.

  _Sam: Are you jerking yourself?_

  _Dean: Yeah_

  _Sam: Stop. Put the phone on the sink where you can see it, and put your hands palm down on the sink on either side of the phone._

 Dean complied immediately and without question. After a torturous minute, a notification flashed on the screen.

  _Sam: I hope you behaved yourself and did what I told you, Dean. If you did, you can pick your phone up._

  _Dean: Ok_

  _Sam: I knew that you’d make me happy. Now I want you to jerk yourself. Send me a picture of your hand covered in your come so I knew what a good job you did._

Dean put the phone down and got to work, stroking his cock while imagining Sam there in front of him. It hardly took any time at all before he was coming; luckily, he could angle most of it into the toilet. He made sure to be a bit messy with it, though, so he had a good picture to send Sam. He took a shot of his hand, fingers spread and covered in come.

  _Sam: That’s so beautiful, sweetheart. I knew that you’d do such a perfect job for me. I wish I was there to lick your hand clean._

 Dean’s cock was very interested in that statement, in spite of the fact he’d just come.

  _Dean: Me too_

  _Sam: Can I cook you dinner tonight? I can be there at 7._

  _Dean: Sounds good. See you then?_

  _Sam: Can’t wait._

 Dean cleaned himself up and practically floated back to his meeting, where he proceeded not to pay the slightest bit of attention to what was being discussed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam wasn't supposed to be QUITE so alpha in this, but he seems to have a mind of his own. I'm being dommed by my own story. Help, guys.

Dinner was a quick carbonara with a tomato salad. Dean pulled a pinot grigio from his wine rack to complement the meal, and the meal was on the table in no time.

Afterwards, Dean leaned back, a hand on his stomach. “If I keep skipping the gym and eating like this, I’m going to get so fat.”

Sam gave him a lop-sided grin. “I don’t think you have much to worry about,” he said, running a finger down Dean’s abs. “Besides, I like taking care of you.”

Dean felt his cheeks redden, but he was more pleased than embarrassed. It felt nice to have Sam worry about him.

“I hope you’re not too full,” Sam said, standing up and pulling Dean towards him. “I have a little after-dinner surprise for you, if you’re willing.”

Dean didn’t know what Sam had in mind, but he suspected that he was very willing.

Sam dropped to his knees in front of Dean, somehow managing to look commanding even from that position, and unbuttoned Dean’s pants. “All I’ve been able to think about all day is how good you must taste,” Sam said, unzipping and pulling Dean’s pants to his ankle. “You got me so hot today, baby, touching yourself for me. Next time I might need you to send me a video.” He chuckled as Dean got visibly harder at that idea. “Looks like you wouldn’t mind too much.”

Sam mouthed at Dean’s cock through his boxers, the silky fabric making the sensation all the more intense. Dean groaned and buried his fingers in Sam’s hair.

“You want me to suck you, Dean?” Sam asked, looking up through obscenely long lashes.

“Yeah,” Dean said, his voice hoarse with desire.

“Yeah what?” Sam asked.

“Please suck my cock, Sam.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

With no further pretense, Sam ripped Dean’s boxers down and sucked him deep into his throat. There was no question that this wasn’t Sam’s first time giving a blowjob; his mouth felt deliciously obscene from the first second it touched Dean. Sam swirled his tongue around the head of Dean’s cock, and it took all the concentration Dean could muster to stay on his feet. He was thankful that he’d come just a few hours before; otherwise, he would have already blown his load in an embarrassingly short performance. Even so, he wasn’t especially optimistic about his ability to last in the face of Sam’s incredibly talented mouth.

Sam seemed to have no gag reflex to speak of. Dean felt like he was being swallowed whole as his dick hit the back of Sam’s throat. Sam gave a pleased hum that sent tremors throughout Dean’s body, and he tightened his hands in Sam’s hair.

Sam set a steady rhythm, sliding his mouth up and down Dean’s cock. One hand reached behind him and grabbed Dean’s ass, pulling him towards Sam. The other hand reached up to gently caress Dean’s balls.

“Oh fuck,” Dean said. “Sammy, I’m not going to last!”

Sam glanced up at him and sucked harder, clearly not concerned about what was going to happen imminently. He added another swirl of his tongue and Dean felt himself emptying into Sam’s mouth. Sam moaned around Dean’s cock and a mouthful of come, and then swallowed. He then licked gentle stripes from base to head, making sure to clean every last drop off Dean.

“I knew it,” Sam said, leaning back and looking very pleased with himself. “You’re fucking delicious. I could suck you off every day.”

Dean sat down hard. “I wouldn’t complain about that,” he said.

Sam bent over and kissed Dean deeply. Dean could taste the salty bitterness on Sam’s tongue, and he wondered how soon he could get it up again. Sam seemed to have quite a bit of stamina and Dean was interested in finding out just how much.

“Should we be done for the night?” Sam asked. He sounded as if he was actually interested in Dean’s answer.

“Do we have to be?” Dean said. “I didn’t even get a chance to take care of you.”

Sam smiled. “No, we don’t have to be, baby. I just don’t want to push you too far too fast.”

“No worries about that,” Dean said, stepping in and angling his chin up for another of Sam’s searing kisses.

“I guess it’s time for that conversation,” Sam said, a devilish grin on his face. “Do you like to top?”

Dean felt himself blushing a deep red. He thought he knew which Sam would prefer, but there was always that moment of fear, when you had great chemistry with someone but incompatible needs. “I top sometimes,” he said, “but I’m really more of a bottom.”

Sam’s smile got even bigger, and he leaned down to whisper in Dean’s ear. “So you like getting fucked?”

Dean nodded while Sam nibbled on his earlobe.

“Well, isn’t that just perfect,” Sam purred. “Because the only thing I want to do is fuck you until you forget your name.”

Dean groaned and leaned into Sam.

“What’s that? ‘Sam, fuck me senseless!’? I can’t quite hear you,” Sam said, his voice still in that seductive purr.

Dean felt his dick hardening again at Sam’s words. “Please, Sam, will you fuck me?”

“God,” Sam groaned, tracing Dean’s jaw with a finger. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m not complaining. Do you want me to fuck you in bed, baby boy, or should I just bend you right over the table?”

Dean resisted the urge to stroke his hardening cock; he already felt like he didn’t want to touch himself without Sam’s permission, which was a terrifying but exhilarating thought. “Bed?” he said tentatively.

“Anything you want, as long as you let me fuck that ass,” Sam said.

“Bedroom’s this way,” Dean said, tugging Sam’s hand in anticipation of what was about to come.

Sam laughed. “Lead the way.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your feedback! I'm glad people are enjoying the story. :) I'm going to end the story here; if I get inspired to add on, I'll do it as a second work in the series. Thanks for reading!

As soon as the door to his bedroom was closed, Sam had Dean backed against it, one thigh between Dean’s legs, his hard cock pressing against Dean. In spite of how hard he’d just come, Dean felt himself attempting to rise to the situation as his sensitive cock rubbed against the fabric of Sam’s pants. He’d always had a short refractory period, which should come in handy very soon.

Sam hauled Dean’s arms and pinned them above his head, holding them easily with one massive hand. Dean’s entire body was tense, anxious, waiting desperately for what it knew was coming.

“If you want me to stop at any point, just say ‘meringue’,” Sam said, looking directly into Dean’s eyes. Dean nodded his assent. “You’re shaking,” Sam said softly. “Are you scared?”

Dean shook his head no, his gaze locked on Sam’s. “That’s not the word I was thinking of.”

Sam growled and scraped his teeth down the side of Dean’s neck, skating just on the thin line between pain and pleasure. “Maybe you should be.”

Dean knew that there was no real threat behind the words, but he was more than willing to play along. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmmm,” Sam said. “Bad things happen to boys who talk back.”

Dean nipped Sam’s lower lip. “What sort of bad things?”

“Don’t think I won’t put you across my lap,” Sam said.

And shit. Dean couldn’t wait to be bad. He scoffed, “I’d like to see you try.”

Hey, it wasn’t a lie.

“Take you shirt off,” Sam said, low and ominous. Dean had complied before he even thought to be a brat about it. He stood naked in from of Sam, just waiting.

Sam took his time removing his belt, a solid piece of leather, and looping it over. He sat on the bench at the end of Dean’s bed. “This can go two ways,” Sam said, his voice remaining low, measured. “Either you can be good and come over here, or I can drag you over here. If you’re good, all you’ll get is ten swats with my hand. If you’re not, it’s ten with the belt.”

Dean knew he was completely safe, and he was grateful to Sam for putting a safe word in place before things got too intense. So the real decision was, did he _want_ the hand or the belt? He assumed that the hand would hurt less, but there was something insanely erotic about the idea of Sam whipping his ass with that long piece of leather.

Sam noticed his hesitation. “You ever been spanked before, baby?”

Dean glanced down and shook his head. It’s not that he was inexperienced, but most of his previous experiences had been pretty vanilla. And that’s all he thought he wanted until he saw Sam sitting there, watching him intensely.

“Take the hand,” Sam said. “Trust me.”

Dean did. He walked over to stand in front of Sam, who was fully clothed and watching Dean’s naked form intently.

“I knew you’d make the right choice,” Sam said, a proud smile flashing across his face before he rearranged his features into a serious expression. “Lay across my lap, face down,” he said.

Dean wasn’t sure exactly how to get into position, and he didn’t know if it was something that he ought to try to make hot for Sam. It was a moot point as Dean couldn’t manage anything other than awkwardness. He got on his knees on the long bench, and put his hands on the other side of Sam’s lap. Sam gently pushed Dean’s shoulders down and he took the hint, lowering his chest with his ass still in the air.

“I expect you to count them,” Sam said, his voice as serious as his face. “If you miss one, it will earn you two more.”

“Okay,” Dean said, his voice coming out breathy in anticipation.

He expected Sam to prep him a little, maybe give him a countdown. That made the first smack, aimed right for the middle of his right asscheek, even more surprising. He yelped and almost sat up, but he caught himself in time.

Sam paused. “Don’t make me wait, Dean.”

It was hard to focus on anything with how much his ass stung. Nine more might not be as easy as he thought. He was suddenly grateful that Sam had talked him out of using the belt. “Wait for what?” Dean said, confused.

Two more sharp smacks to either side of the first one got his attention, and he remembered the counting. “One,” he gasped.

“Good boy,” Sam said soothingly. Amazingly, it did seem to help a bit.

The next smack was right where Dean’s thigh met his ass, and he gritted his teeth through the stinging sensation to say, “Two.”

Sam kissed the back of his head. “See, you’ve got it now,” he said. “I knew you could do it.”

Dean expected it to get harder to handle as they got closer to ten. Instead, he found a kernel of pleasure inside the pain. Part of it was pride that he was handling himself so well and making Sam proud; part of it was his increasing understanding of those moments immediately after the strike, right before his pain receptors kicked in. There was something magical in those moments, soothing, captivating, and he wanted to explore that space, see if he could find some way to make it last longer than a second.

“Ten,” he gasped immediately after the last spank.

“I think you liked that,” Sam said, wrapping his hand around Dean’s cock. Dean had been so focused on the spanking that he hadn’t even realized that he’d stiffened up again. Sam pushed Dean back on his heels so he was sitting up and took his hand. “That’s ok,” Sam said, putting Dean’s hand over his tented pants. “I did too.”

Dean leaned over and licked the bulge. “Can I?” he asked.

“Well, you did do such a great job with your punishment,” Sam said with a smile. “I suppose I can let you have some fun. But when I say stop, you stop. Right?”

“Yes,” Dean responded quickly, and had to keep himself from adding a “sir” to the end of it. He got off the bench and positioned himself between Sam’s knees. Dean undid the button and pulled down the zipper on Sam’s pants. Sam deigned to raise his hips a bit to facilitate Dean pulling them down, but aside from that, he let Dean do all the work.

Dean took a deep breath when he finally got a good look at Sam’s cock. Sam was a big guy, and that included his dick. He was both girthy and long, but what caught Dean’s attention the most was the fact that Sam wasn’t circumcised.

“Ever been with an uncut guy?” Sam asked.

“No,” Dean said, a little intimidated. He was from proper mid-Atlantic WASP stock. Every guy he’d ever slept with had been cut.

“Well, then, you’ve been missing out,” Sam said, his dimples showing. “It’s not that much different. Go ahead. You can play.”

Dean wrapped his hand around Sam’s cock and took an experimental stroke. The foreskin moved easily, and Dean could feel how hard Sam was. As he stroked down, the foreskin pulled back, exposing the head. Dean leaned in and swiped it with his tongue, earning a groan and Sam’s hand tightening in his hair. Sam was right; it was different, but not so much so. He could definitely work with it.

“I know I told you that you could play, but if you want me to fuck you, we’d better stop,” Sam said. “Your tongue feels better than it has any right to.”

Sam pulled Dean to his feet and onto the bed. “How do you want it, baby?” Sam asked, his voice full of affection.

“Any way you want to give it to me,” Dean replied, grinning.

“Well that doesn’t really narrow it down,” Sam said. “Why don’t you get on your hands and knees? I definitely want to take you face-to-face at some point, but right now I want to see my handiwork. I also just want to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

Dean was most definitely on board with that. He indicated the drawer in the bedside table where the lube and the condoms were, and hoisted himself into position. His arms and legs were trembling just a bit in anticipation. He felt Sam pull his ass cheeks apart, and they stayed like that for long enough that Dean was beginning to think something was wrong.

“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” Sam said, and, before Dean could respond, Sam bent down and licked a long stripe from Dean’s balls to above his hole.

Dean felt his asshole twitching already. Sam noticed it too, apparently, based on the way he began to focus on it. Sam teased it with his tongue, encouraging it to open with light licks and hard thrusts of his tongue. Dean leaned his upper body on the bed, in a very similar position to the one he’d been in when Sam spanked him. There was no pain mingled with the pleasure this time, just blinding-hot bliss with a talented tongue.

Sam took his time, opening Dean as much as he could with his tongue, before Dean felt him stop and head him rifling through the bedside drawer. He heard the ‘snick’ of the lube container, and then Sam’s fingers were right against his ass.

“Ok?” Sam asked.

“Perfect,” Dean responded.

Sam began to sink just one finger slowly into Dean. Dean took a breath and willed himself to relax as Sam breached the tight interior ring of muscle.

“Just made to take me,” Sam said, so quietly that Dean wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself. He didn’t have long to consider, though, before Sam added a second finger. Dean whined and leaned back against Sam’s hand, wanting him deeper, wanting more than his fingers.

“Patience,” Sam said. “Don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not exactly small.”

Well, that was one way of putting it.

Sam fucked Dean’s ass with his fingers, going slow and adding more lube before pressing a third finger into him. Suddenly, he grazed Dean’s prostate, dragging a faint moan from Dean.

“Found your sweet spot, did I?” Sam asked, and Dean could hear the grin in his voice without even looking. “Let’s try to find it again with my cock.”

Dean turned his head, locking eyes with Sam. “Please fuck me,” he said.

Sam groaned. “I will never get tired of hearing you say that,” he said.

Dean heard the rip of the condom wrapper and then the click of the bottle being closed once again, and then he felt Sam’s cock, huge and blunt and perfect, nudging against his hole.

“Ready?” Sam asked.

Dean nodded, and Sam began the slow plunge inside Dean. Dean had that feeling of being uncomfortably full, and he wondered for a moment if Sam was going to fit. But then Dean took a deep breath and purposefully relaxed his muscles. Sam pushed in a bit further and Dean felt the inner muscles open. After that, Sam’s movements became smoother and Dean’s body offered little resistance.

Dean felt Sam’s balls rub against his own. “Are you….?” he asked, turning his head.

“Yeah,” Sam said, very still with his eyes closed. “All the way. Just trying to keep myself from coming right away. You feel so fucking amazing, Dean.”

After a moment, Sam pulled back slowly, then stroked into Dean again. His cock hit that glorious spot within Dean, and he heard Sam chuckle behind him. “God, I love the way you clench my cock when I hit the right spot.”

“I bet I love it more,” Dean gasped as Sam hit his prostate just right.

“Let’s do a little more research,” Sam said, and he began to pound into Dean hard, making sure to graze that spot every time, until Dean literally saw stars in front of his eyes. That was when Sam slowed down just a bit and shifted to be able to lean forward and take Dean’s cock in his hand. His hand roughly stroked Dean’s cock to the same rhythm that he was pounding into his ass, and it felt like only a few moments before Dean was gasping a warning. He felt himself come all over as Sam stroked him through it, his come lubricating the last few strokes.

Sam sat back up and grabbed Dean by the hips, one hand dry and one drenched with Dean’s come. He pulled Dean back and pounded into him mercilessly. Dean felt boneless, let Sam take total control. After only a few strokes, Sam groaned and his movements got erratic. Seconds later he slumped over Dean’s back.

“Fuck,” he said, gasping. “So good for me, baby.”

Dean closed his eyes, savoring the moment. He was content to be good for Sam for just as long as Sam would have him.


End file.
